


there is a monster in all of us

by Skullszeyes



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Consent, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Romance, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Izaya-centric, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Graphic Violence, Out of Character, POV Male Character, POV Third Person Limited, Romance, Rough Kissing, Slow Burn, Surprise Kissing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Izaya and Shizuo are monsters. Izaya is the silent type, yet he drives his cruelty into the depths of his beloved human's. Shizuo is loud, destructive to the point that humans fear him. Alone. They manage to prove to each other that they're not monsters, they are humans too.





	1. not their first meeting

**Before Raira Academy.**

 

“You’re going to find yourself in a morgue,” Izaya said, frowning at Shizuo who was lying in a hospital bed with a glare directed at the ceiling. His brother, Kasuka and Shinra sat on the other side, while Izaya’s own siblings were running around in the hall.

“More like _we’re_ going to find him in a morgue,” Shinra said with a bright and unnecessary smile on his face.

Shizuo let out a low growl, his hand squeezing the small milk bottle before rising slightly off the bed and throwing it at Shinra who was knocked off his seat.

“Oww!”

Kasuka shook his head at Shizuo as he winced in pain before falling limp against his pillows.

“Izaya! Izaya!” Mairu and Kururi ran into the room, both small with dark brown hair, one wore glasses, while the other trailed behind. “Give us money! Money, money, money!”

“For what?”

“Vending machine,” Kururi replied, pointing at the open door.

“Get me something too, Kasuka,” Shizuo said to his brother who nodded and rose from his chair.

Izaya sighed and passed money to Shinra. “Get them _one_ each.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be back,” Shinra said, holding his red cheek as they all scurried out of the room.

Izaya turned to Shizuo who was looking out the open window at the dusk sky. He broke an arm and a leg, his hair was brown and he had a permanent frown since he arrived at the hospital.

“Shinra says the other guys were a lot more injured than you,” Izaya said, moving his chair closer to the bed.

Shizuo grunted.

He leaned on the bed, “Do you usually pick up people and throw them twenty feet? I’m still wondering if Shinra was lying and you actually got a hit by a truck.”

“Does it matter?” Shizuo asked.

“I just want to see what kind of monster you are.”

Shizuo turned his head and glared at Izaya. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Believing someone’s word is hard when you haven’t seen the evidence to back it up,” Izaya replied.

For a moment, Shizuo’s hand curled into a fist before he sighed, relaxing the tension in his body. He stared at the ceiling and said, “I got hit by a truck. It’s more believable.”

Izaya chuckled, imagining the possibilities made him giddy. “I can’t believe that every truck in the city hates _only_ you. That you continuously make visits to the hospital with broken bones and is still able to fight afterward. Shinra and your brother aren’t shocked by the pattern, so how could I be shocked when I visited you for the third time this month.”

Shizuo snorted, narrowing his eyes at Izaya. “I knew you were going to become a pest the second I set eyes on you.”

Izaya stood, pressing his hands on the bed and leaning toward Shizuo. “Is that _love-at-first-sight_ I’m hearing?”

“Shut up.”

Izaya sat back in his chair when Kasuka, Shinra and his sisters returned. His sisters showed him what they got from the vending machine, while Kasuka was opening a bottle of milk for Shizuo. Shinra sat by himself, holding his own drink and swinging his legs beneath his chair.

“You’re coming to Raira next year, right?” Shinra asked, addressing Shizuo.

Shizuo nodded. “Yeah.”

Izaya smiled as his sisters rambled on, but what he was more excited was next year that he got to attend school with Shizuo. A monster he wanted to see in action since Shinra brought him up. His bones healed remarkably well and he had a tame disposition when you spoke privately with him, but in the open, his temper surged through his entire body. A simple lit fuse and destruction followed, it was only when someone either knew how to control the destruction and rarely, like his own brother and his friend Tom. Or someone who enjoyed inciting the destruction, Shinra or possibly himself. He wasn’t sure where he stood, but he knew one thing that pulled him toward this particular monster.

He was interesting.


	2. we began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya and Shizuo's beginning was on a field of bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked their beginning. From what I read from the Light Novels, Izaya didn't like Shizuo before they even met because of something he did to Shinra. (And you know how Izaya feels about friendship.)  
> Anyway, I wanted to add this because in my fic, Shizuo and Izaya are considered friends, but not exactly best friends. Shizuo is only starting to dislike Izaya, while Izaya is still so incredibly fascinated by him. It's only when they're both feeling this intensity inside of themselves that things begin to change in unexpected ways. :)  
> I hope you enjoy.

**Raira Academy.**

Izaya studied the students wandering into the school grounds. They were a mixture of expectation and interest that he would find himself watching throughout the years. However, he was more concerned for someone else walking through the gates with a peculiar and maybe thoughtful expression. He was like a beacon amongst the normal students, and when he stopped, as if he knew. Izaya couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face with the raise of his head.

Their eyes met.

_Ah, Shizu-chan, you’re finally here._

It didn’t take long for Izaya to create mischief amongst the students. He had no classes with Shizuo, a few with Shinra, but maneuvering between, he wanted to see the monster that Shinra raved about. The one that Izaya visited in the hospital with broken bones and a tamed demeanor wasn’t the one he expected. He knew there was something flickering beneath and he wanted to bring it to life and watch it burn everything around him.

Shizuo’s elementary friend Tom told Shizuo to dye his hair blond. What Tom didn’t know was that Izaya helped dye it a few days before school began with Kasuka and Shinra. The students didn’t have to know that, they weren’t about to witness something extraordinary, they were simply the tools that were going to put everything into place.

By the end of the day, Izaya grabbed Shinra and he pulled him to the back of the school where they spotted several people running past. Izaya’s grin still firm on his face and his heart beating with excitement.

“What’s going on, Izaya?” Shinra asked, skip to his step “where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Izaya said and heard the shrieks and grunts that were getting louder. When they rounded the corner, Izaya dropped his arm from Shinra and stared with fixation at the brutality of the monster, the sun draped upon the field with bodies strewn in dark splotches, groaning and alive. Yet his eyes kept going back to the manifestation of the extraordinary. He moved toward a lone table and sat down, his heart thumped wildly in his chest, hands trembling, complete elation flowed through him.

“This is.. Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, quietly.

Shinra chuckled beside him that Izaya found slightly disturbing. He was completely relaxed, as if Shizuo’s display of violence was normal to him, and maybe it was.

A twinge of jealousy seized through the amazement, but he brushed it away as he looked back at Shizuo who finally finished. Panting low with hands balled into fists, his blond bangs shrouded his face.

Impressed, Izaya clapped. He didn’t expect less from a monster, but seeing it was different from hearing it.

“Hey, Shizuo,” Shinra waved, “Izaya and I caught the last bit of your fight. Although, I’m getting the feeling this is _your_ fault, Izaya.”

Izaya smirked, “That’s not nice, Shinra. I wouldn’t do that to, Shizu-chan.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Shinra said, still smiling, not the least bit oblivious.

Shizuo turned, narrowing his eyes at Izaya and there it was. A flicker beneath his skin—alive. “I’m starting not to like you.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was thinking that we could have some fun together after seeing what you can really do.”

“Shut up,” Shizuo said, tucking his hands into his pockets and turning away. That little self-control, something’s holding him back, but it wasn’t enough. Izaya wanted that spark and he arranged the tools to strike it, but it was Izaya who made sure it stayed, even when Shizuo swung first.

The table smashed as Izaya shoved Shinra back, at the same time, taking out his knife and moving on reflex, slicing through fabric and skin. “Now, now, Shizu-chan, you can’t deny that this isn’t fun.”

Shizuo pressed his hand against his torn shirt where the blood bubbled to the surface. A mixture of shock, anger and confusion crossed his face, but whatever he was thinking vanished to realization.

“You bastard,” Shizuo said under his breath, “you knew where I would be and you sent _them_ to me.”

Izaya shrugged his shoulders, there was no point in trying to lie. “I wanted to see what kind of monster you had in you.”

Shizuo growled and chased Izaya through the streets. Izaya’s heart thumped in his chest, breath burning his throat. He never felt so incredibly alive before, focused and controlled that when he turned down a corner and Shizuo followed after. The truck slammed right into him and tossed him into the air.

He landed with a sickening crunch, twisting on his back with a low groan. Eyelids barely closing as he stared up at the sky.

Several cars stopped, people watched with shocked looks at the blonde lying limp on the asphalt. The driver hopped out of his truck, his eyes wide and sweat glistening off the side of his face.

“I-Is.. he okay?” the driver asked, frantic and afraid. “He’s not dead, is he?”

Izaya smiled, taking out his wallet and paying the man a hefty sum. “He’s fine. Take the money and go.”

Izaya sauntered over to Shizuo and knelt down. He pressed his elbow on his knee and leaned his jaw in his palm. “Looks like trucks do hate you,” Izaya said, snickering as he watched the fire grow in Shizuo’s eyes.

“And you call _me_ the monster.”

It was cold. The feeling inside of himself, the thing beneath his _own_ skin, it was formless and indistinct, but pulsing.

“Oh, Shizu-chan,” he flicked a stray hair from his face, “don’t insult me by comparing myself to you.”

Izaya waited for Shizuo to stand up again, it didn’t take long and some people were taking pictures and videos. Izaya wanderered over to a few and smashed their phones. He almost considered that he might be a monster, but by the time he ran away from Shizuo to Shinra’s. The thought was gone from his mind, and he wouldn’t think about it again.

Not until the peak of their end.


	3. friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little by little, things have changed, and Izaya who wouldn't accept Shizuo, is accepting his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to fortify Izaya's character. :)

“You’re friends with Izaya Orihara, right?” A student asked, she was tall with long brown hair, a book bag strapped around her shoulder and her face was twisted in a scowl. There were two other girls lingering behind her, a short brown haired girl and a medium height girl with a little too much makeup, they both looked equally pissed off.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at them, he was standing with Tom outside of the school grounds. “I wouldn’t say we’re _friends_.”

She stepped closer, her chin raised. “Give him a message: Tell him not to mess with my friends with his screwed up bull—” She raised her hand and Shizuo grasped her wrist before she could make an impact against the side of his face. A shuddered gasp left her lips, she tried tugging her wrist back but Shizuo’s grip wouldn’t budge.

“Deal with him on your own, don’t run to me, thinking I’m some brute that goes around beating the shit out of people.” He let go of her wrist and the girls ran off with curses on their lips.

Shizuo sighed, looking over his shoulder at Tom who was frowning. “Quit screwing around.”

Izaya popped his head behind Tom and smiled. “I haven’t done anything.”

“This better not be some kind of bullshit, just to see if I’d hit a girl,” Shizuo said, stomping forward and backing Izaya against the wall.

“It’s not,” Izaya said, still smiling up at Shizuo. “Really. I over heard some things those girls were talking about and decided to—”

“—Screw with them,” Shizuo finished, shaking his head. “You’re a waste of time, go hang out with Shinra.”

“They might come back, I think there’s a safety in numbers,” Izaya said, grinning up at Tom who disregarded him and followed Shizuo down the street, away from the school.

“A safety in numbers?” Shizuo said in disbelief, his hand going to his chest, “you’re skilled with a knife.”

Izaya tilted his head, “That happened weeks ago.”

“It still hurts whenever I think or see your stupid face, flea.”

Izaya frowned. The nickname began that day, the anger diminished but whatever resentment Izaya created still held strong, a symbol on Shizuo’s chest. That flicker didn’t waver, not even when Tom was around. Surprisingly, Tom accepted Shizuo in a way that reminded Izaya of Shinra.

Izaya on the other hand couldn’t think of Shizuo in any other way. He accepted the monster part, but what humanity there was still wavered in his mind. He grinded his teeth as they walked until he slowed his pace and headed back to the school.

It was silent, numbing and futile that he managed to find his way over to the girls that threatened Shizuo. They were clustered around a bench, one of the girls rubbing her wrist, a look of fear on her face.

A _stain_ of fear from a monster.

He stopped, watching that look, the impression it created. Fear was something that was hard to control, it rattled the nerves at a single thought, an action, leaving someone either left in emptiness, shock or adrenaline. Fear is what destroys lives and repairs it at the same time. Mistakes are created by fear.

Izaya smiled and pulled out his knife. A monster could create fear, but humanity, the look on their face is what drives it deep into the recess of their mind. A psychological stain, physical in the bone, flowing through blood and breath.

_I love humans._

“I heard you’ve been looking for me,” Izaya said, clasping his hands behind his back, holding the knife between his fingers. A safety measure. His safety in cold steel.

The girls turned in unison and the looks were especially dark. One moment, confusion and fear could twist to such a potent unstable emotion.

“You’ve been leading me on,” the short brown haired girl said. She was younger than the others and wore a cardigan. “All those messages about caring about me..”

Izaya shrugged. “You wanted me to care about your sad little home life, so I care. It doesn’t mean I do.”

The tall brown haired girl dropped her hand from her wrist, stepping forward, “So you phone her boyfriend and—”

“And what?” Izaya asked, cutting her off, “he wasn’t doing any better with his knock off and you weren’t happy about it either. I did you both a favor.”

“It had nothing to do with you,” she screamed, and there it was, the bubble burst and the tears streaked down her face, her voice tearing apart into sobs before she slumped on the ground.

Their voices were loud enough in the library and they didn’t realize he was studying by himself beyond the bookshelf. He didn’t even have to get up. He let out a sigh and managed a little of sympathy toward a crying girl. The messages were nothing but pity. It was easy to figure some things out, and her boyfriend was known throughout the school. It was coincidental that Izaya found him outside with another girl, that the pictures he leaked would eventually lead back to him.

Her little bubble wasn’t interesting as Shizu-chan’s fire. He turned away from them and they didn’t bother to follow. It wasn’t until the tall girl ran after him that he noticed the stain still around her wrist; her hands were shaking.

Would it ever go away? Eventually it would. Shizuo may be a monster, but he was also kind, and once she saw a flicker of that, it’d dissipate.

His, on the other hand, would not.

The knife pressed against her neck, quiet and sharp.

“Are you friends with Heiwajima Shizuo?” she asked, her breath wavering.

Izaya smiled. “ _‘Define’_ friend.”


	4. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't update this in a year and that's my bad. Lost interest. I wanted to write more of this story, but I couldn't get into it. I tried many times. I'm not really sure if I'll update a lot, but I'll try to finish. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

**23**

 

Izaya smiled coyly at Shizuo who stood before him. It was one of those days when they were fighting, when the destruction escalated, and Shizuo’s hate grew before him. Since they were young, things had changed drastically, and it was mostly Izaya’s doing. He managed to place Shizuo in different dangerous scenarios that fanned the flames.

“Come now, Shizu-chan, it’s my birthday.”

He growled, fingers curled into tight fists at his sides. A crowd watched in anticipation. “You’re doing crazy shit again, you bastard.”

“Not everything I do concerns you,” Izaya said, fingers wrapped around his switchblade. He should feel afraid of Shizuo, he had grown more into a monster throughout the years, trying his hardest to be human, but Izaya could see it, the unpredictable monster beneath his skin, it was alive in his eyes, and Izaya was disgusted by him every time they came upon each other.

Their friendship had wavered since high school. It was Izaya’s fault, he kept on manipulating the situation, and his own infamous reputation began to grow, and like Shizuo, he was considered dangerous.

Izaya stepped back. “I have better things to do than play with you, Shizu-chan.”

“How about you stay out of Ikebukuro,” Shizuo said, glaring.

“You and I both know,” Izaya said with a shrug, “I’m not going to listen to you.”

And then he started to run, a laugh leaving his lips when he heard the familiar growl of the monster before he heard metal sliding against metal, the ground beneath his feet rumbled as something was ripped from the ground.

Izaya’s heart raced, he looked over his shoulder, and caught sight of Shizuo throwing a street pole at him. His eyes widened, and dodged it by going into a narrow alley, listening to the screams of the bystanders and Shizuo yelling his name.

“Not today, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, still running, “I have things to do without you getting in the way.”

When he got far enough, he caught his breath and called Shiki. He still had work to do and a few people wanted information from him. He wasn’t at the office, and he’d have to call Namie to get a few files out and spread them at his desk.

“I got delayed,” Izaya said into the phone as he walked down the street.

“You’re still coming?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“These guys are getting impatient.”

Izaya looked up at the blue sky. “Remind them they shouldn’t have to be with the information I have for them. Make sure they have the money, I don’t like getting scammed.”

“If they did, they’d have some broken fingers to deal with.”

Izaya grinned at the thought. His heart was still racing, and with the thought of accidentally running into Shizuo on the street seemed to ignite his interest in Shizuo’s fire. The same fire that burned when he was around, that destroyed streets and sparked fear in everyone that surrounded them.

“I’ll be there soon.” He hung up.

As the years went by with himself and Shizuo, the gap between them only seemed to grow. It was his fault, but he couldn’t help but blame Shizuo as well. The man was too easily infuriated, and the monster within grew and grew, tainting everything around him. Izaya wanted to exploit it, to show others that Shizuo was the monster that they expected.

To his dismay, Shizuo gained friends that somehow looked past that part of him. It disgusted Izaya, and he questioned why everything he planned backfired. It wasn’t like he didn’t win what they were doing, he found their fights hilarious, and interesting. Except he hid a part of him that was disturbed by Shizuo, that he couldn’t handle being near him.

It was the reason why he made sure the gap stayed between them. The distance that no longer tied them as _friends._ He almost laughed at the thought that he had considered Shizuo a friend. Ridiculous.

Izaya arrived at a hotel, he walked in and headed for the elevator. As he stood with his hands tucked inside his parka, he mused on the aspect of friends. He didn’t have many, and Shinra’s obsession with Celty had also created a gap between them. He wanted to change things, but it never turned out right.

Like what Namie always seemed to remind him. He was alone. And he liked it, enjoyed it, that this distance could help him love his fellow humans. He couldn’t let anyone get too close, it was too much for him.

Playing with the emotions and actions of his humans is what made life seem fair. Shizuo Heiwajima was not a human. Not particularly. He was a monster that looked like a human, that tried to be human. He didn’t even act human, and because of this, Izaya can’t grasp anything from him.

Izaya shook his head, the elevator door opened and he walked through to the hotel room. There were already two men in dark suits standing outside. They noticed him, and he caught the elicit fear on their faces. People knew him by his actions, and he enjoyed that a lot. He had this impression that stayed with him, and it lingered whenever he was near.

They opened the door and he walked inside. Shiki was leaned against a dresser, and two of his men were on the side. The distributor was sitting on the bed, while his assistant stood beside him, both looked equally uncomfortable.

“You have the information?” the man asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. He got this a lot, because he was young, they assumed his lack of experience, but he worked at this for sometime, and he knew the rhythm of it.

“I do,” Izaya said, taking out a slip of paper from his pocket. “I want the money first before we make this exchange.”

The man nodded, nudging his assistant who placed the suitcase on the bed, she opened it and there it was, a check.

Izaya passed the assistant the information and picked up the check. He smiled down at the amount of money he received and tucked it into his pocket.

“Izaya,” Shiki said.

He looked at him. “Yes, you’ll be paid as well.”

“I think that’ll be it,” Shiki said, pushing away from the desk, “your men however will be relocated, and whatever you do will be watched for any inconveniences.”

The man nodded, sweat beaded along the side of his face. “Of course.” He indicating with the tip of his head to his assistant, and they left the room.

“You think they’ll lie about it?” Shiki asked once the door closed.

Izaya turned to him, “No. The information itself wasn’t hard to track down.” A simple infiltration into the system of a facility and he took it without any trouble. He didn’t think it would be a bother, and thought this little job of Shiki’s was easy. The man asked him to help him appease a few of his clients, and with that, he could easily control them. Izaya complied with a price.

Shiki nodded. “It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?”

“When did you care about me so much?” Izaya asked, walking toward the door.

“I don’t,” Shiki said, “it’s just idle conversation.”

Izaya looked over his shoulder at him, his smile still on his lips. “I don’t particularly do idle conversation.” Then he left. He’d have to get Shiki’s money when he returns, he didn’t like loose threads when he worked. On his way out of the hotel, he called Namie and told her to get his things ready for him, she replied with dry wit, and he ignored her.

Hanging up, he looked through his phone and stopped on Shizuo’s number. He thought of calling him, maybe getting him riled up again. Shizuo always seems to have as many phones as Izaya does, but unlike Izaya, Shizuo got rid of his whenever Izaya managed to locate his number.

It was as much of a game to them that lasted for years while they chased each other through the winding streets of the city.

He dialed his number and placed his phone at his ear, waiting either for Shizuo to answer, or hang up.

After a moment, Shizuo answered with a deep aggravated sigh. “What do you want?”

Izaya grinned. “It’s my birthday, Shizu-chan, you should come over and celebrate with me.”

“Like I keep on saying each damn year, I’m not celebrating with you.”

Izaya rolled his eyes. “I celebrate _your_ birthday.”

“By doing what? Getting me fired from my job, calling the cops on me for false allegations, annoying me. What the hell do you want from me, Izaya?”

That was a question Izaya seemed to always wonder about himself. What did he want from Shizuo anyway? He always brushed it off, enjoying their games more than Shizuo did, and despising the man for being the way he was.

“What I want, Shizu-chan, is for you to die. Can you do that for my birthday? It would be a wonderful gift to me and humanity.”

“Piss off,” Shizuo said, then he hung up.

Izaya placed his phone into his pocket and as he headed home, his smile began to slip from his face. Not because he was annoyed that Shizuo decided to react differently, but because he was spending his birthday alone again. Namie was going to leave after she was finished filing his records, and spreading out his files, and when he returned, the apartment would be empty.

He tried to ignore the familiar ache inside his chest where that same indistinct feeling swarmed around. It sometimes scared him how much he can be cruel to others, and it was the reason why most people didn’t see him as a friend. Shizuo and Shinra were a tie to everything and everyone else, but both of them didn’t care.

He should have accepted this part of him a long time ago. Lately, the loneliness was getting to him, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Stupid, Shizu-chan.”


	5. doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya talks with Shizuo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my readers still like this story, I'm not really sure if anyone likes it. Makes me question if I should continue, but I'll try to get some chapters out anyway. :)
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.
> 
> (Linkin part - In Pieces) Song I was listening to while writing this.

Shizuo was enjoying his cigarette under the stars and surrounded by the cold chill of the night. He turned and noticed something in the darkness, a shape that wasn’t there a few seconds ago. His mood shifted, a scowl rising to his face.

“What do you want?”

Izaya grinned and stepped from the shadows, hands tucked inside his jacket pockets, one hand on his cellphone, the other one wrapped around his switchblade. Two objects that were incredibly needed, one dealt with his daily life, the other dealt with the monster in front of him. 

“I thought it was obvious,” he said, tilting his head to the side.

Shizuo scoffed, “I don’t have time for you.”

_ You don’t? You always have time for me. One moment you see me, you chase after me, pulling steel from concrete and throwing it through the air _ . Izaya almost finds the thought hilarious. For years, they’ve chased one another, a taunting laugh leaving his lips, and an inhumane growl from Shizuo. There was something there that was awake between them, years its been honed and brought to a sharp edge that usually spilled blood on the asphalt, sizzling under the heat of the sun. 

“And you have time for a cancer stick?” Izaya asked, tipping his chin up, looking down at the cigarette between Shizuo’s lips, watching him breathe in the smoke, and pulling it from his lips so he could exhale it in a plume before dissipating. 

Shizuo leaned against the railing, “Better company than you.”

A sharp pain cuts into Izaya, a mystery all on its own, he ignores the throb, the itch, the insistence. 

Izaya places a hand against his chest, frowning, “That hurts, Shizu-chan. If you’re going to be difficult—”

Shizuo gives him a narrow glare, “I’M being difficult?”

“Like I said,” Izaya steps closer, but stops when Shizuo’s fingers curl into a tight fist at his side, “before you interrupted. If you’re going to be difficult, I’ll call a truce for today.” It’s a luxury that he doesn’t usually fall into, Shizuo should be glad that he’s willing to do this for him. Except he’s received a shake of Shizuo’s head, he looks away from him, there’s disbelief on his face, with anger under the surface.

“How about you leave me alone.”

Ungrateful. Izaya’s smile pulls taut at the corner of his lips, he gives him a shrug. “Friends don’t say that to each other.”

And there it is, the silence hangs between them, and Shizuo turns his head to look at Izaya, but there’s something there in his eyes. It makes Izaya’s heart race, and he can’t help but question why that is. It reminds him of when they were younger and when Shizuo had beaten all the students to a pulp, and the look in his eyes, the stance in his body, the panting breath escaping him. It was alive, the fire that grew and made Izaya more obsessed with seeing it, experimenting on the aspects of what it is. 

A thrill ran through his body, and he hated Shizuo for making him feel this way. The look in his eyes was not human, but it was, and he couldn’t deny it. 

“Eh, Shizu-chan, your staring is making me uncomfortable.” He meant it as a teasing joke, something to get Shizuo to stop looking at him like that, as if he could see everything inside Izaya, all the pain and hatred he felt, the wrongness of his words, and the spiteful way he did his work, the love for his humans and the most sensitive parts of himself that he would not show the light of day. 

Shizuo flicks his cigarette and strolls towards him. Izaya grits his teeth, unsure of what he’s meant to do, but he’s rooted to the ground. Pride and anger making him stay where he is, and whatever words that were meant to escape him stall in his throat. 

Shizuo stops right in front of him and there’s no anger on his face, nothing that strains his body, nor the fire that flickers in his eyes. The monster that Izaya witnessed a long time ago was gone, and here was something he didn’t want to accept. Since the gap between them grew, Izaya stayed with Shizuo more often after school, or when they were studying for a test, he always seemed to find himself helping him. 

He would always make a joke that would annoy Shizuo, but nothing else would hinder their friendship. Not until he started doing more dangerous things, and his reputation grew, and Shizuo was considered the most dangerous man in Ikebukuro, things began to shift between them.

They had their titles, their fear amongst human beings, a split that needed tending. So Izaya did what he always did, he fanned the flames, he made sure everything was in its proper place before he let everything go on, he made sure that Shizuo was the way he was in front of his humans. That the fear would isolate him, but even his own plans began to fall apart whenever Shizuo showed people a different side of him. And Izaya’s plan turned on itself, and even his own best friend, Shinra, began to create this gap that he couldn’t cross.

It had all fallen apart because Shizuo didn’t react the way he was meant too, and so his hatred grew, and grew, and that’s when things had truly changed.

Shizuo frowned down at Izaya, “When have we ever been friends? It’s all been one twisted game.”

Izaya releases the tension in his body, but he doesn’t accept the pain that comes along with his breathing in his chest. “On my part, maybe,” Izaya says. “I did tell you at the start that I wanted to see what kind of monster you can be.”

The truth tastes like dirt in his mouth, but he holds it along with his pride. 

Shizuo turns away, and it might have been a wrong move, but somehow he knew Izaya wouldn’t strike him. He stays where he is as Shizuo says, “Figured that was bullshit.”

Izaya finds himself smiling. “Maybe you didn’t know me at all.”

Shizuo stops himself from stepping down the stairs, he looks over his shoulder at Izaya, brows furrowed. “And you call us  _ friends. _ ” He turns and continues down the steps, leaving Izaya where he is.

He curls his fingers tightly around his switchblade, but he doesn’t make a move to run after Shizuo. Instead he steps back into the shadows, a strange indistinct feeling rises to the surface, one that held cruelty in its hands, the actions crawling its way to his throat like pinpricks of a knife against his skin, the same feeling that let remorse flee from his mind, and the mercy of others fall to their knees to his amusement.

In all that he couldn’t find himself to go after him, to cut him in the neck and let the blood flow to the concrete, to finally be rid of the monster that ravaged his life. He couldn’t even find the need to do so, and with the same loneliness that ached in his chest, tightening around his heart, reminding him of the truth and the lies of who he is.

He couldn’t doubt himself, not now, not ever.

In the silence of the night, Shizuo was long gone, but all Izaya could think of was their teenage years when they were friends, and when things shifted to something terrible, he couldn’t help but stay in that mindset. He let go of his hold on the switchblade. 

“We are friends.”


	6. nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya reflects on his and Shizuo's past friendship.

He muddled through the conversation for days, and maybe he shouldn’t have bothered to think about it. He couldn’t get his face out of his mind. Why he was looking at him for so long? What was he thinking? It frustrated him because he usually knew what people thought, what their next action would be, but his was too far away for him to distinguish. 

Izaya sighed, hands tucked inside his pockets. He walked through the alleys, no real destination in mind, he needed time to think and his apartment was too confining for thoughts like these.

A monster didn’t have a mind, it didn’t have any rational thought. So it made sense that someone like Izaya wouldn’t understand from the beginning, but it also irritated him. He wanted to know, and not knowing was making him more angry. 

With a backwards glance, his words stayed in his mind.  _ And you call us friends.  _ A declaration that they once were, but Izaya had destroyed the chances of them being friends any time soon. Although he wouldn’t have bothered in the first place.

He was a monster that felt nothing but rage. He destroyed everything in his presence, and yet he could find people who cared about him, who made him matter. While Izaya himself stayed sulking in the shadows. He tried his hardest not to think too hard of that aspect of their lives, but it was there. 

Alive and taunting.

Izaya gritted his teeth, fingers tightening around both his knife and his cellphone. He hated Shizuo. He breathed in that hatred, let it consume him, and he was able to do what he wanted without thinking too much. There was no distractions to his purpose, nothing that could make him second guess himself. 

So why was he doing it now?

Izaya stopped in the middle of the alley, brows pinched in concentration. Was he second guessing himself? And what would come of it? 

His ear twitched at a subtle sound, hard breathing, the stink of something foul, then the knife was pressed to his throat from behind. 

“Give me all of your money,” the man said, a sort of hysterical laughter leaving his lips, followed by an unwashed mouth.

Izaya gritted his teeth, brows pinched together. He reached for his pocket, and instead of bringing out his wallet, his knife slipped out and it came up to slice the man’s hand. Izaya gripped his wrist to stop the man from jerking his arm so the knife itself wouldn’t cut him. Then he twisted around, shoved the man against the wall, ripping the knife from his hand and tossing it to the side where it clattered to the ground. He didn’t bother taunting the man, his own rage twisted inside of him, the indistinct feeling clouding his judgement.

The knife went into the man’s side to the hilt, and he heard the choking as he twisted the knife. Izaya glared into the man’s petrified eyes, and leaned closer.

“You interrupted me.” 

Then he pulled the knife out and slammed his fist into the side of the man’s face, the man toppled to the ground with blood leaking through his dirtied shirt, pooling on the asphalt.

Izaya shook his head, he could feel the warm sticky blood on his hand, it dripped off the tip of his knife. 

“Useless,” he said, closing his knife and dropping it into his pocket, he kicked the man in the side and he let out a howl of pain, but there was no one in the alley that would stop Izaya, no one that would save him.

“You interrupted my thoughts,” Izaya said, trying to push back the anger, but it was already wrapped around the swarm of hatred for Shizuo. He relaxed his shoulders and managed an amused smile, kneeling down next to the man, he tilted his head to the side. “What an unfortunate day you’re having. Maybe next time, think before you do something stupid.”

Then he rose and didn’t bother looking at the man as he turned and left the alley. The anger was still there, wrapped around his hatred that he couldn’t loosen. 

He thought of their years in Raira when he got far enough, leaning against the wall. He took out his phone, but there wasn’t anything of interest. 

It happened after the  _ incident  _ that managed to create a gap between them. Of course they still hung out, Shizuo mostly kept his distance, and Izaya followed after with a smirk on his face. He wanted to annoy Shizuo, to see the monster come to life. That was his only fixation. 

One day they were sitting outside, he was eating a sandwich, while Shizuo was drinking a bottle of milk, when a group of men appeared around them. All bigger and more imposing than himself and Shizuo.

Of course, Izaya was more interested in what was going on, and Shizuo was more focused on drinking his milk. He figured this happened often enough that Shizuo no longer cared about the attention he received.

Shizuo swallowed the last bit of his milk and narrowed a glare at Izaya. “What kind of stupid thing did you do this time?”

Izaya frowned, placing down his half eaten sandwich. “Me? I think this is about you.”

“It’s about both of you,” one of the men said, a sneer on his face. “Heard you were talking shit throughout—”

“Who are you?” Izaya asked, interrupting.

The man glowered. “Fuck you. You should know who I am!”

“Should he?” Shizuo asked, frowning, he looked between Izaya and the man, “I don’t even know who you are.”

The man’s face begin to redden, and Izaya had found it hilarious. 

“Fuck both of you!” And then it happened so quickly, all of the men went after Shizuo and Izaya. Of course Izaya knew they weren’t technically feeble to consider getting beaten up by a bunch of men. They’d fight back, but with a lot more flare.

Izaya had his knife out and he had spilled blood that day. And Shizuo, he had spilled more than blood, he had destroyed an entire street and scared most of the men so badly they curled up on the sidewalk.

They were walking away from the mess, ambulance and police cars drove by them. Izaya had tucked his knife away and had his sandwich in his hand. 

“Sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose,” he said, biting into his sandwich.

Shizuo wore a scowl on his face, his blond hair was messy from the destruction. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, destroying everything.”

“I...don’t do it on purpose...I don’t actually like violence.”

Izaya’s brows arched. “Really? That’s surprising.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re typically the embodiment of violence, yet you don’t like violence. You’re a paradox.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Izaya shook his head. “It’s what you are, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo stopped and looked down at Izaya. “You’re a nuisance, does that make you what you are?”

Izaya found himself rolling his eyes. “That’s an opinion.”

“Whatever, I don’t care. You’re a nuisance.”

They continued walking and that day, Izaya didn’t really think about their friendship as being meaningless, he just never thought he would come to hate Shizuo so much.

Izaya looked down at his phone when he shook the memory from his mind. He frowned, wondering how days like that could be so twisted into what he was doing now.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? What he does, or what I do? He’s still a paradox, and I’m still…” Izaya scowled, “stupid, Shizu-chan.”


	7. strange

Weeks past since Izaya visited Shizuo. He had his own work to deal with, and his mind was barely on the blonde haired bartender.

“Namie,” Izaya said, without looking up from his laptop, “can you get me the file in section F?”

“The entire thing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him from the couch, there were already a few files sitting around her, including her own laptop on the coffee table, next to it sat a cup of tea.

“Yes,” Izaya said, mind muddled with other things, he pinched his brows, “the entire thing, hurry up.”

He wasn’t in a hurry, but he liked when Namie was in a state of panic, when her brows furrowed, and she had a look that maybe what he spoke was serious. It wasn’t that serious. He knew when he had to deal with something that was, and he was good under pressure, but this wasn’t anything like that in the least.

It was old reports on old gangs in the city, some had to do with clients, and money management. Currently, he was making sure that all of his assets were confined, and soon he’ll have to tighten the restrictions on a few of his clients that were still calling for his assistance. Of course, he’d have to make sure they knew the cost of his information, and that gaining it wouldn’t become a problem in the future.

He also wanted to make sure his contracts were—

A knock at the door stalled his thoughts and he looked up. Namie was on her feet and making her way to the door. She opened it and Celty walked through in her black outfit and helmet. She had something in her hand and walked over to Izaya and placed it down on his desk.

“A new job?” he asked her.

She didn’t give him any indication that it was, but he figured it was anyway. He picked up the envelope, opened it and read its contents.

“Soon?” he asked, staring at the paper, knowing that Celty wasn’t going to answer him. A smile split his face as he raised his head, “I’ll get it done by tomorrow afternoon.”

She picked up her PDA and typed a message.

_Tonight._

Izaya frowned. “Really? Why?”

She typed again and showed him the screen.

_Can you or not?_

With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I can get the information by tonight, but I do require payment.”

_You’ll be paid._

Then she turned and left.

Izaya looked down at his work and sighed. Looks like he won’t be able to get anything done, maybe tomorrow evening.

“What was that about?” Namie asked, sitting back down and picking up her tea.

“Hacker business,” Izaya said, closing one of the folders and picking up the piece of paper Celty brought with her, “someone’s information has been hacked and sold online.”

“You don’t usually do those kinds of jobs,” Namie said, placing her cup down.

Izaya shrugged, leaning against the desk. “Looks like this person doesn’t want the authorities to know about it, must be some sketchy business. I don’t mind either way, a job is a job.” He stood and stretched, picking up his coat and slipping his arms through. “Mind organizing this mess?”

He gained a glare, but he ignored Namie and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

Izaya looked over his shoulder at her. “I need to do recon for a bit, I know exactly where to do it. I’ll be back later.”

Hiroki Kei. A businessman with little exposure to the underground world, but he didn’t mind trying to scam his fellow employers, at the same time, he got a little too greedy.

Izaya didn’t mind jobs like these, if a man wanted the information erased, then most of what he stole will become his anyway. Of course he’ll find out more than he usually did to confirm that he didn’t steal anything once it’s done with.

Izaya sighed, taking his cellphone out and walking down the street, away from his apartment. He looked for more information on the man, and the hacker who had stolen his identity is taking most of the money with him.

Izaya frowned. He’d have to do this quickly before eleven. He didn’t like being rushed, but it wasn’t a hassle anyway. So he shouldn’t bother complaining.

What did come to mind was that he was entering Ikebukuro, and soon _he’ll_ sniff him out like a common mutt. Izaya grinded his teeth and continued along the street, he entered an alley to make sure that he wasn’t seen. He didn’t need to be chased, not when he was doing a job. Maybe afterwards he could come and bother him.

He found a park and sat down on the swing, moving back and forth as he looked for information. It was tedious work, but he didn’t mind. He found he liked working, having something on his mind that could keep him away from boredom.

His skin itched sometimes when he was bored, he needed something to do when he was. His mind ran wild with thoughts and ideas of what he could do, and sometimes he watched people a little too much. Going into their lives and dipping his fingers into things he shouldn’t be in. He did it anyway because he could, and no one could stop him. He found the power of that compelling, but soon he would lose interest.

He managed to get all of the information he needed on the hacker. A few backdoors were left open, and he had left a trail. He wasn’t currently in the city, but it wasn’t like he was trying to hide. Izaya was only supposed to find the hacker and gain information from it, then gather it up for payment, not harass the hacker.

He spent a bit of time swinging and as an hour went by, he stopped and got up. He dialed Namie’s cellphone number and placed his phone to his ear.

“What?” she asked, her voice a drawl of boredom and irritation.

He smiled at the effect he had on her. “I have most of the information and I need you to print it and place it in a folder.”

“Is that all? Why can’t you do it?”

“Oh, Namie, you’re the one at the office, so you might as well do it, and I have things to do for tonight anyway. I won’t be back for another hour or so. I’ll have Celty come over and grab the folder once she pays me.”

Namie didn’t say anything else and he had hung up. He called Celty and told her that he had the information and was expecting payment.

She had given the money and he told her to pick it up at his apartment.

With that finished, Izaya strolled down the sidewalk, looking at the bright lights of the building and enjoying the night air. What he was most hoping to enjoy was to see Shizuo, but he wasn’t anywhere he usually was.

Frowning, he looked around, and then he stopped and noticed him across the street in a restaurant with Tom. They were eating, and talking to each other, but Izaya stared, perplexed.

Shizuo always looked so calm with others. He didn’t hold any of that hate he was so fond of when he looked at Izaya, there was no sign of the rage that was usually there. It showed Izaya how much of a monster he truly was, but times like these, when Shizuo did nothing but have idle conversation. It was strange, something Izaya wasn’t used too.

He wasn’t sure how long he was staring for, his heart aching. He finally turned away and walked down the street.

 


	8. choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya spent most days watching his humans, and now he's visited by one that isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Late update? I don't know. I'm sorry nonetheless, mostly because I lost interest again, there isn't really much of Durarara! that appeals to me personally. Maybe Izaya, but I don't know.   
> I feel like I'm going to get something wrong, but if I do, know that it's not an imitation of a work that has already been done, but a variation of one inspired by it. Since this is fanfiction, I mean, and I can do whatever I want with my own story. :/
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

He watched them squirm under their own innate desires. And when they were too afraid to make a move, he would do it for them, help them along the way, until they have nothing else but the simple choice of doing something they would consider wrong. Except, if they weren’t afraid, it wouldn’t be wrong in their eyes, only in the eyes of society. 

They were all built up into this form of undeniable morals that it soaked into their skin in everyday life. When one man decided to kill another, their desires changed, becoming more than what they’re humanity had in store for them, because what they were doing is what their humanity has leveled out. A line that should not have been crossed until the blood of the dying was on their fingertips, in the clench of their teeth, where the anger resides inside their eyes. 

He’d watch them when they falter under that desire, stumbling away, and hiding behind lies they could try to deny. Except he’s seen it all, demonstrated to the world that even the innocent can cut someone down. 

It can be something simple as starting a gang. Their most honest smiles could be crooked in the dark of their choices, bending to their will, it was only when they’re able to move, making what is wrong to society, and blending it all with the right choices. A substantial air that clung to their pores, he would like to do something like that, but humanity also has barriers colliding with each other.

Unfortunately, he has barriers that he cannot touch, and so he looks the other way. Closing it off from him and looking to what he can do, to the ramifications of what he can move, and what he can start, to show him the end result. Is that all there was in this pitiful world? The humans and their many intricacies, solid bound beliefs that yielded to what their innate choices tell them to do.

It all starts with movement, a thought, with a heart that beats inside their chests. It all starts with where they live, and how they can make the motive to challenge themselves, to be more than humans in the eyes of society. 

That is when people evolve from each other. That’s when they become more than they thought they were.

Izaya jumped from the railing and landed on his feet. He walked by the dead body and took out his blade. They weren’t far off, how could they when they were dragged down by guilt, and the blood on their clothes, staining their fingers, and whatever was left of their soul.

He eventually did find the culprit, and smiled at them, congratulated them for a well off demonstration, although the man didn’t know what he was talking about. And it was easy to take a picture of him whose eyes widened with shock, all his pallor drained from his face, and he fell to his knees, begging for something he didn’t understand.

Izaya smiled, his own in the light of the sun, was crooked enough for others not to see the truth. “You gave me enough incentive to watch what you were going to do. How lovely it was to see your anger when he took your spot at work, and yet you had the audacity to drink and kiss his girl, and then find him, and kill him.”

Humans laid out their paths throughout their lives. It clung to them, following them, and never truly leaving their minds, like insistent memories that pulled them under. This is what happened, the man had a bad childhood, which isn’t as unexpected as most, but he grew up, hoping to do better. Except things always seemed to fall apart around him, and Izaya, who watched with interest, wondering what the man would do, but figured it out too soon. 

It was all in choice. 

He could have backed off, he could have went home, slept in his bed, got dressed, and go to work. Deal with the actuality of what was happening, but instead he got drunk, kissed a woman who slapped him across the face. The rage could only be honed by despair of a past he couldn’t control, so he took what he could, and found him in the alley. Related his struggles of a father who ignored him, and a mother who was rarely at home, and finally in his moments, he was triumphant, he did not even hesitate to make his move.

“You amused me,” Izaya announced and snickered, pressing his fingers down on his phone. “At least for awhile, you did. You made your bed, and now you get to lie in it. Isn’t that wonderful? Humans are so pleasant when they’re at an end.” 

He didn’t bother listening to the whimpering as he left the man alone. Soon with the pictures appearing to the police, the man will be taken to jail, and he’ll confess his sins, and no one will feel pity for a man who made a choice to do what he thought was right. At least for a moment, he thought it was right. 

There wasn’t really a wrong or a right. Not in the minds that blend in their choices, humans step back and realize their own faults, but with one thought, they move with innate instincts, and some never look back.

It was the same for Izaya, who skipped his way down the street, and slowed his pace to look at his phone. A smile with an edge that most wouldn’t understand if only they knew he was a spider, and if caught in his web, will he wouldn’t mind devouring them. 

Izaya wrinkled his nose at the thought. He didn’t like the comparison. He skimmed through the news articles and found a few of odd destructions going on in Ikebukuro. A man was sent to the hospital for grievous injuries, and they were still searching for the culprit who had done it.

They wouldn’t find him, and no one would believe him. 

Izaya went home with that idle thought on his mind, but as he went up to his apartment building, and stopped in front of the door. He noticed something odd. The handle was broken, and part of the hinge was torn. 

Izaya frowned for only a moment, before a creeping smile rose to his lips. He gently touched the knob, and gently pushed the door. Listening to the wood creak and the metal slide against each other, he slipped inside and looked around.

Shizuo was sitting on his couch with a cup of tea in his hands. He narrowed his eyes, a glare that was all too normal on his features when they were directed to Izaya.

“Shizu-chan, I didn’t expect you,” Izaya said, walking across to his desk where he took off his black parka. 

“We both know that’s bullshit,” Shizuo said, placing his cup down.

“I only figured,” Izaya sat down in his chair, “that you’d end up somewhere else when I learned about your fun time in Ikebukuro. At least call when you’re heading over, and I wouldn't have to come home to a broken door.”

Shizuo glanced away. “I lost my phone.”

Izaya hummed, placing his fingertips against each other. “I do wonder why you’re here, if you don’t mind answering that question.”

Shizuo was quiet, and it told Izaya a few things. That Shizuo either missed him, which was an absurd thought since Shizuo didn’t exactly care that much for Izaya, and another was that Shizuo had no one else to go too, and he was too considerate to even think of the option. So he decided to go to the one person no one would think where he’d be. 

To Izaya.

“I do treasure our friendship,” Izaya said, turning in his chair when he caught the disgusted look on Shizuo’s face, he tapped the keyboard and the screen lit up. 

“Where were you anyway?” Shizuo asked.

“Working, what else would I be doing?” Izaya asked, knowing it was a blatant lie.

“Screwing with people’s lives again?”

Izaya tilted his head to the side. “You make it sound like I do that all the time.” He swiveled in his chair too look at Shizuo.

“If you so much as get on my nerves,” Shizuo said, fingers curling tightly on his knees.

Izaya shrugged, “I’m always on your nerves.”

Shizuo scoffed, hate always seem to swirl inside his eyes, a taste of it in the dry air as he said, “This is why we’re not friends.”

A pinprick of pain lingered in his chest, but Izaya didn’t let it bother him. Some things were left forgotten and untouched. 

“I always thought we were friends,” Izaya said, going back to work on his computer, but he was mostly talking to people on the chatline.

“Quit bullshitting yourself,” Shizuo said.

“When have I ever?”

Shizuo got up, walked around the coffee table and stopped in front of Izaya’s desks. “This nice act doesn’t suit you.”

Izaya looked up, “I have to agree, but I’m being honest.” A rare occurrence that he doesn’t like to think about, a decision he made awhile ago, and still it lingers.

Shizuo placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward, a smile curled on his lips. “I don’t believe that.”

Izaya leaned back in his chair and turned to face Shizuo. “Shizu-chan, most people grow from trusting, if you can’t, you’ll always be a mindless monster.” Unlike the humans who were fantastic when they make their choices, and Shizuo who was blinded by his own rage, a true monster manifesting on the streets. Completely uncontrolled, and yet there’s something inside of him that always stays intact.

“And you’re not?” Shizuo asked, his voice low and threatening, but there was also a point in them, a motive clearly arranged in Izaya’s hesitance.

“I’m sure,” Izaya said, collecting himself again, leaning forward and placing his hands together on the desk, “there was a moment in our past when I told you not to compare myself to you.”

Shizuo snickered and moved back. “You’re the one in denial.”

Izaya gritted his teeth, watching Shizuo sit back down on the couch. He turned toward the computer, and all his thoughts went to that indistinct feeling that was inside of him. The one that continued to grow. It complimented something about Shizuo, his rage twining together, melting, and forming into something else.

He was not a monster, not the kind Shizuo was.


	9. defence mechanism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya and Shizuo don't get along, which is no surprise, but Izaya is curious about something that is making him feel different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this story. :/ I wasn't sure why I'm making this into a slow burn fic, but it's turning out to be one. LOL. I'm not great with writing romance...I keep repeating this phrase. Damn it.  
> Anyway, I made myself a schedule on when to write, so hopefully I stay on these schedules and update more frequently. :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

“This is what you do?” Shizuo asked, hovering around Izaya who was typing quite enthusiastically upon his keyboard. His glasses were tucked on his nose, and he rarely got irritated with people, but Shizuo was always the exception. He somehow made experiencing life less grand every time his face appears in Izaya’s mind, or even standing beside him, his breath hot with the raw stench of tea that he barely drank. Something about it being too bitter.

“What do you mean?” Izaya asked, lightly touching the keys without pressing down, he was trying to think of a decent reply that didn’t come off angry. He didn’t like when people knew what he was truly thinking, or what his motives were. If he could keep it vague, that was good enough for him.

“Chatting with people?” Shizuo asked, dry and uninterested. He walked toward the large window and looked out at the city lights that looked spectacular during the night.

“I do more than just chatting with people,” Izaya responds, finding the right answer and typing it in. “I usually go out...and how did you say it before?” He looked at Shizuo who gazed back in the reflection, “ _M_ _ess_ with people?” A smile curved on his lips, “less elegant, you might want to think up a different way to say it.”

“How else would I say it?” Shizuo asked, crossing his arms. “That’s all you ever do.”

“I have my work—”

“Which is against the law.”

Izaya scoffed, leaning back against his seat. “I’ve seen you doing your own work, Shizu-chan, I’m not ignorant to see you flipping people upside down just to gain their wallet.”

Shizuo turned and glared at him. “Don’t compare what I do to what _you_ do?”

“Please, enlighten me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, his smile staying perfectly intact on his lips, he drummed his fingers on the arm wrist of his chair, “what would you call what I do any less than what you do?”

“You fuck with people—”

“And you don’t?” Izaya retorted, amused by Shizuo fuming in front of him, “quit acting childish, Shizu-chan. Sometimes you have to open your mind to the reality that maybe we’re too similar.”

“And yet earlier you said we weren’t.” Shizuo’s own smirk rose to his lips, but his was more vicious, less playful and devious like Izaya’s, but there was also something sarcastic that glinted in his eyes. As if he fully shoved Izaya against the wall to get him where he wanted too, a place that Izaya himself tried his hardest to avoid. “You’re a hypocrite, Izaya. How about instead of trying to demean me, why don’t you look yourself in the mirror to see the truth you try to hide from everyone, including yourself.” He stepped closer, and Izaya’s fingers tightened on the arm wrist, he didn’t realize his smile had fallen until Shizuo leaned down, gripping Izaya’s arm and earning a wince from him.

His smile was feral, an animal that no one wants to be caught alone with. “You’re pathetic. You can’t even handle looking at your own damn reflection, not realizing how high you think you truly are on that fucking pedestal, you’re actually quite low, maybe on my level.”

Izaya snickered, trying to stay in control of his own rising irritation. “Is that what you think of me all these years? That I stand side-by-side with you? How about you get that thought out of your head. We both know you aren’t any brighter than the hole you seem to dig yourself in when you destroy a building. You might even bury yourself once you kill someone and that’ll be the truth. You’re nothing, but a monster that deserves to die.”

Shizuo breathed heavily and he pulled away which looked like a great restraint to hold in whatever rage was coiling inside of him, ready to release fully on Izaya who didn’t look away from his dark gaze. “Cruel. That’s your defence mechanism. Might want to look in that mirror, Izaya.”

He glared, words failing on his tongue as he watched Shizuo leave his apartment without a backwards glance. Izaya turned back to the chat once Shizuo closed the broken door. His entire mood was destroyed.

That’s all Shizuo could do. Destroy. Even the simplest of moods falling flat at his sight, a day in the sun could be covered by debris and smoke. The warmth of a beating heart crushed in the hand of a monster with no control.

Except as he sat in silence, there was a shudder moving through his body. A thrum at the space between them, broke by Shizuo’s remark.

He recognized it, and he had considered it foreign once before, when the days of their youth had steeped with rage and manipulation. He recognized it tangling in the air they breathed, and he wouldn’t mind sharing that same experience if he had the chance. Except he also had moments when he couldn’t control what he said, his brain telling him what he was doing, the decisions he made were right. And so he followed his instincts, except when it passed by him, he had to think if what he was doing is what he wanted to do.

_This is who I am. I have proven it many times over. There is no room for doubt._

This was no different, but as the seconds ticked by, and his head tensed. He drummed his fingers beside his keyboard. For once, he didn’t really have to think of it, but he knew it was a bad idea. He got up from his chair, pulling his jacket through his arms and walked out of his apartment where he stood in the elevator.

_What am I trying to do? Why am I doing this? It makes no sense. My decision makes no sense!_

He tried to make sense of his confliction, but he was too angry to find the answer. Izaya stepped from the elevator and through the glass doors. The cold night air brushed against his face. Instead of relief, a nausea swept over him, and his hand went to his stomach, the world tilted, and he bit his lower lip to keep the bile from landing on the pavement.

There was no one around to see, but he didn’t dare have a reminder of what he was doing. It was not guilt, it was not a test to see if he could do something, or even if he ignored his base instincts to tell him that all he could do was screw up a day.

“Just like Shizu-chan,” Izaya spat out, he gritted his teeth, and reached for his knife inside his pocket. The cold steel brought him back, leveled the world, and with a deep breath that steadied his thoughts, he sauntered down the sidewalk.

If he could find him, say something to him, maybe he could even make it worse. Provoke the monster that settled inside of him. It was the only thing that seemed to make sense in all of this strange imbalance.

Shinra once told him that this was their reckoning. He said it with a disgusting smile that peeved Izaya. A destiny, a fate, that would last for days and years. A hatred built that ultimately brought them together. Something they couldn’t fight.

Shizuo had told him many times that Izaya should leave him alone. It would ease their days, their relationship they once had during school.

If he simply left him alone.

And like what he said to Shizuo long, long, ago.

He smiled at the suggestion.

“I can’t. It wouldn’t be fun anymore if I left you alone.”

Shizuo didn’t like his response and proceeded to destroy and entire block, screaming people running for their lives, while their friends watched from the sidelines. They were a display amongst normal people, gravitating to each other, and Izaya always wondered who would kill who in the end. Would it be inevitable?

He wanted to prove that Shizuo was the monster.

Izaya slowed his steps.

Maybe because of that goal, he was also a monster.

One that was indistinct inside of him, swarming like a deep fog or heavy mist. One he couldn’t fully fathom. He wanted too, except his pride held him back.

Izaya took a deep breath, letting out all his doubt, and he strode down the street to find the monster of Ikebukuro.


	10. love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of Izaya's denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. :) Thank you for still reading this story. I hope you like it.  
> Anyway, I'm hoping to finish this story soon. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

**Love**

 

It was the day when people sent hearts to each other. When the boys and girls flushed at the sensitive questions they asked. Ones that were, _“I like you, will you go out with me?”_ They’d hope for a decent reaction from the one they were confessing too. Sometimes it wasn't what they expected. Sometimes it was callous words that stay in one's heart forever. The emotion on their faces would drain away, to a dull inconceivable feeling.

Izaya had watched it all from the halls, the roof, and in front and at the back of the school. He watched inside the classrooms. Every one of them were obvious in their confessions. Some were harsh, others were kind. No one was the exact same, but they lived by a pattern that Izaya can see and predict.

He got one last year, and at first when he looked at it, considering its worth before opening it. Drawn hearts surrounded his name written in cursive. The confession was beneath it, and underneath that, was the name of the girl.

He was unsure of what to do. So he threw it out, and he might’ve heard a gasp before walking out of the classroom. More followed after, and he ripped them to pieces before throwing them in the garbage. He even received some from the guys in his class. Some were insults, others were genuine confessions that he took note of. He also threw those out.

By the time the day ended, he collected the names of who liked him. While he walked home, hands tucked inside his pockets. He wondered what he was going to do with them, all so willing that it amused him.

Now it was that same day, and he received less than last year. He did mentally hold their names of the ones who confessed inside his head until further use. He held the confessions in the form of red and pink paper and left class during break. He looked around, but he couldn't find him. The only place he could think of was the roof when he wanted to get away from people. The door was usually locked and only accessed by a teacher or a janitor. When Izaya walked up the stairs, he didn't assume that it was when all he had to do was push against it.

They'd leave it for the teachers to find out again. He strolled along the roof, looking around until he spotted him. He was lying down on the ground beneath the shade, his eyes closed, and his arms were behind his head as a pillow.

Izaya walked closer to him, and watched his blond dyed strands drift over his face. Izaya stood over him, extending his hand above him and dropped the confessions on Shizuo. He didn’t stir so Izaya sat down in front of him, watching him sleep with the hearts on top of his hair and clothes. The front collar was undone, and his tie was loose around his neck. There was a sheen of sweat on his neck, and his hair stuck to his skin. He was the same old Shizuo who once again received a lot less confessions than he did.

He also disliked this day, and tried his hardest to hide from people who’d try to confess to him. He'd reject them, but when they bugged him for too long, Shizuo’s temper overflowed. He'd either break yet another desk or smashing a window. Izaya liked hearing about Shizuo’s destructive nature.

Izaya leaned forward, poking Shizuo in the cheek. “Wake up, monster.” Shizuo didn’t move and stayed sleeping. Izaya touched Shizuo’s nose, until his hand came to his forehead where he placed his palm against it. He was warm, his skin soft, and his hair softer. Izaya ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help smiling. Not the malicious smile when they fought each other. It was something else, warmer, kinder, unlike anything he would ever show anyone.

It was a raw, unnatural thing that was indistinct to him.

Izaya could never give that to Shizuo. He wouldn’t dare open himself up to the prospect that Shizuo could see more of him. He liked this, Shizuo being under his thumb, that his attention stayed on him alone. There wasn’t a day that Izaya liked seeing Shizuo, he anticipated it each day, and when they were off for the weekend. He would search for him.

Izaya continued running his fingers through Shizuo’s hair, enjoying the softness. When the bell rang, Shizuo didn’t move. And Izaya ripped the confessions he received, and scattered the pieces across Shizuo. He stayed like this, still smiling, holding that small bit of warmth inside of him. Steady, and hoping it wouldn’t break.

Izaya leaned forward, placing his hand on one side of Shizuo’s head, while the other stayed on the left. He tilted his head to the side, leaning down, blowing the red and pink pieces off his lips. He pressed his nose against Shizuo’s.

“Shizu-chan,” he whispered, his smile forming into that same malice he gave everyone else. “You missed a few classes, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo groaned, turning his head, and tipping his chin up, revealing more of his throat. The pink and red were stuck from the layer of sweat.

Izaya’s mouth went dry. Hesitant. He leaned closer, his eyes fluttering shut, and he pressed a kiss to his cheek next to more red and pink confessions. When he heard Shizuo groan again, his chest tightened, and he moved back. Placing his hands in his lap, and frowning at him.

“Shizu-chan, it’s time to wake up,” he said, reaching down for his white shirt and pulled on the rolled up sleeve. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.”

Shizuo groaned, his eyes moving, brows pushing together and his mouth parted. “Shut up, Izaya.”

He didn’t think he’d feel it, but his heart raced when Shizuo said his name in a low, sleepy, voice. He wanted him to say it again.

“You missed some classes,” Izaya stated. 

Shizuo murmured, and his brows smoothed out, and Izaya thought he was falling back to sleep.

“Wake up, Shizu-chan. You missed your morning classes,” Izaya said, reaching for the front of his shirt, but a hand came up and grasped his wrist. He went still, expecting the pain, but there was nothing.

“I know, Izaya,” Shizuo said, blinking his eyes opened. “Can you shut up and let me sleep?”

Izaya bit down on his lower lip, and he felt this urge he didn’t think he’d experience. At least not toward Shizuo. It was normal. He was at a normal age for these things. He always thought it would happen with a girl. And to his surprise, he didn’t mind that it was Shizuo who made him feel this way.

Shizuo let go of his wrist and sat up. “What the?” He looked at the pink and red ripped up paper. “What the hell is this, Izaya?”

Izaya looked at the red and pink covering Shizuo’s body, and he grinned. Leaning forward, and said, “Isn’t it obvious, Shizu-chan, it’s my confession to you.”

Shizuo wrinkled his nose, picking a piece off the side of his face. “Why’d you rip it up?”

Izaya blinked, sitting back. Words falling from his lips. He didn't expect that, unlike the humans he watched. The monster who he couldn’t predict. He should’ve known that he wouldn’t have reacted the way he thought he would.

He let the indistinct feeling grow in his heart, shrouding the warmth he wished he could convey. And he let himself say in a sarcastic tone, “Because you don’t deserve it.”

Shizuo glared, still picking off more paper from his face and clothes. Izaya helped him. When they finished, they separated to their individual classes. But that day stayed in Izaya’s mind, even how much he wanted to forget it. It still lived inside of him, beating in his heart, along with the pain.


	11. whiplash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya and Shizuo talk, but Izaya only ends up confused by Shizuo's strange intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. It seems I have most of my fanfictions already written out and stored in my files. :/ Because this was finished and should've been uploaded weeks ago. FFS. I was trying to deal with my original work, so maybe that's the reason I forgot. LOL. FORGIVE ME! 
> 
> This is a bit short, and I hope you don't mind. :)
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Izaya caught up with Shizuo down the street where he was talking with Kadota, both of them with less serious faces, and their conversation seemed casual. Izaya slowed his pace, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“I finally found you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, grinning when they both looked at him. Shizuo glanced away right away, while Kadota stared for a moment before looking away. Their glances told him everything. Shizuo was still annoyed, while Kadota was curious why he was here. From the way he was looking at Shizuo, he was probably wondering why they aren’t destroying the street with their infamous cat-and-mouse game. 

“Hello, Dotachin,” Izaya said, grinning at the man who gave him a grunt. 

“Quit calling me that.”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at him. “Couldn’t you have stayed home instead of following me?”

“Why would I do that?” Izaya asked, tilting his head to the side. “I thought you were enjoying our conversations.”

Shizuo turned his head, muttering curses under his breath. 

“Well, I’ll see you later,” Kadota said, his gaze skimmed past Izaya as he walked back over to his friends standing by their van. 

“At least I know you can have decent conversations instead of storming off like a petulant child,” Izaya comments. 

“You’re the one insulting me,” Shizuo said, taking out a cigarette from his pack. Izaya watched him light it, and when Shizuo made eye contact with him, his heart raced and he looked away. He didn’t realize he did that until a second after, and he frowned at his reaction. 

“I assume you have nothing else to do, besides scare everyone of your presence,” Izaya said, reigning in his control. 

Shizuo scoffed. “Go bother Shinra.”

Izaya’s mood fell at the mention of him. He tried to avoid visiting Shinra over the past weeks, Shinra has been indifferent to him. And when he did speak with him, all he did was faun over Celty. Their conversations usually ended with that, and Shinra would be the one walking away with her on her mind. 

Once it wasn’t like that, but it was only for a brief time. 

“You look so damn fragile all the time.”

Izaya peered up, brows furrowing. Shizuo was watching him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The yellow light of the lamppost shadowed his face, his eyes were covered by his glasses, and it annoyed Izaya that he couldn’t see the color.

Izaya stepped closer, plucking the cigarette from between his lips. “You and I know that I’m not fragile.” He took a drag, hoping it can calm him down from all the insistent thoughts of their past, and their annoying present.

Shizuo turned the rest of his body toward him, and Izaya reacted too late when his hand wrapped around his wrist. There was no pain. Izaya kept his gaze on Shizuo, gritting his teeth at his close proximity.

“You’re fragile, Izaya. You can’t always lie about that truth,” Shizuo said, and his voice was soft, his expression hiding nothing. 

Izaya ripped his grip away and stumbled back. He flicked the cigarette to the side, and chuckled at the absurdity that was coming from Shizuo’s lips. “Don’t think so lowly of me, Shizu-chan. Just because we were friends once upon a time, doesn’t mean you know me.”

Shizuo observed him, and when he broke eye contact, he said, “I think I know you more than you know yourself.” And he started to walk away. 

Izaya snarled, out of all the things he had to say. Why say that? Why insinuate that he knew him when all he ever does is destroy things? What was he thinking? He had to know. Izaya plucked his switchblade out and it released with a soft click. 

He sauntered after Shizuo, his gaze dark, and his thoughts fading into nothing but his hatred. The feelings inside of him swarmed like an out of control wave, or blistering wind. He wouldn’t let anything else stop him, this is what they’ve been doing for years. What else would make sense when all Izaya had to do was slice at Shizuo’s skin, looking for the place where he could carve out his heart.

He got as close as he could, and Shizuo turned around, which surprised him. His jaw slackened, and his wrist was caught. He was shoved hard against the wall in which he struggled to keep the switchblade in his grasp, but Shizuo ripped it from his hand and tossed it like the discarded cigarette.

Izaya’s eyes widened, but the rage returned to the surface. “You stupid idiot!”

“It’s what you get for trying to attack me,” Shizuo said through clenched teeth, leaning in close.

Izaya fought to get Shizuo to release his wrist, but he wouldn't. “Let go of me.”

“So you can try and attack me again.” A cruel smirk curved upon Shizuo’s lips. “You really must think I’m stupid.”

Izaya’s laughter bubbled inside of him, and he let it out before snapping, “Of course I think you’re stupid. That’s all you’ve ever been since I’ve met you. Stupid, stupid, stupid Shi—”

His head was pressed back against the wall, and his mouth was covered by warm lips. All his thoughts went out like a blown out flame, and he was surrounded by darkness, in the grasp of a monster who was growling heavily, and he was about to be eaten alive.

Izaya squeezed his eyes closed at the strange feeling coiling inside his stomach. A relief within that indistinct feeling of a warm breeze beneath the shade of a hot afternoon. He relaxed, but the stubborn part of him began to crack, and he panicked at his loosened grip. Kicking out, he hit Shizuo in the leg hard enough for him to move back.

“Izaya,” he warned.

“Me?” Izaya asked, incredulous, feeling whiplashed, “you’re the one attacking me!”

Shizuo rolled his eyes, his grip tightened and he managed to push Izaya back against the wall. “You’re the one who hasn’t noticed.” Then he let go, and walked away.

Izaya stayed against the wall, his fingers curling into fists. He can still feel Shizuo’s lips against his, the warmth tingling in his stomach, while his mind made up lies. When he managed to get himself together, he walked across the street to look for his switchblade. He took out his phone and it helped him in the dark patches beneath a tree. 

He eventually found his knife, and when he turned, Shizuo was gone from sight. This was getting out of hand. He didn’t mean for things to get this difficult. He’ll have to do something. 

Izaya walked home, wondering what kind of plan he had for the Monster of Ikebukuro. He wanted something to end things, to finally cross that line. He had too, or whatever he felt was going to swallow him completely.

And he couldn’t have that. 


End file.
